


A Stormy Night

by Morse_s Child (sherlockstummy)



Series: Werewolf Drabbles [3]
Category: Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, could be seen as morse/lewis if you squint, cowley cid wolfpack, or thames valley, werewolf!lewis, werewolf!morse, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockstummy/pseuds/Morse_s%20Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morse and Lewis survive a summer storm together by taking refuge in a cave after a vampire attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stormy Night

The rain drowned out nearly all sound. Morse was disoriented, weak, and damp. He knew from experience that a long exposure to a damp coat was as horrible as sitting in damp clothes in the cold for a human, and would result in real flu instead of the existential kind. 

Morse groaned as he stirred, turning away from the cliff edge. He didn’t dare to look down to see the mangled body of the vampire that had tired to decapitate his sergeant. Even thinking about it made his stomach churn. The rain dove beneath his fur and straight to his skin; curse summer coats and cold rain. He rose to his feet, his head heavy at first. “This is what you get for living on rabbits and beer, Morse,” he grumbled, vowing to join in the hunt at the next possible moment.

He pricked his ears. He could hear thunder above his head, the rain on the leaves, the occasional sizzle that indicated lightning, but no howls. Loneliness didn’t bother him, but being alone was better with Lewis by his side. He tossed back his head and howled, long and slow and melancholy. His howl would carry, he knew. Strange’s howl was deeper, but shorter. Being a singer, Morse’s human and wolf lungs were far more developed. He tapered off his howl and was about to start again when his ears were alerted to a sweet sound: a wolf howl with a slight twang. A Geordie twang.

“Lewis,” Morse bounded off in the direction of the howl. “Lewis?” He barked as loud as he could. “Lewis!” But it was no use; the storm was too loud. His voice wasn’t carrying.

Lewis’ howl shook the leaves in the trees and made shivers run down Morse’s spine. Was he injured? Lewis hardly ever called him with such desperation. Morse, eager to put his pup at ease, howled again. At the tail end of his, he heard Lewis’ answer from somewhere to the right. Morse bounded off again, pausing to call. Lewis kept answering, his howl getting nearer and nearer. Were they both moving?

Morse stopped on a rock sticking out from the ground, chest heaving. Besides being old, he was severely underfed. But there were no small creatures underfoot, what with the rain. Not even a mouse.

“I’d even stoop to canine level and dig for a mole, if there was a nest somewhere,” Morse muttered. He wasn’t hungry, he told himself. His strength was depleted.

“Sir!”

Morse turned, scanning the forest. He recognized the slim outline of his sergeant and bounded forward. “Lewis!” He nuzzled him, resting his head on Lewis’ neck, relieved when Lewis responded by turning into his neck as well. “Are you hurt?” He began licking Lewis head. The other wolf’s brown fur tasted of rainwater and smelled of wet dog, but Morse had never been happier to see his pup.   
“No, sir.” Lewis began to lick him back. “That leap was impressive! I’ve never seen you do that before!”

Morse laughed. “Did you think me too old for action, then? You underestimate me.”

“The other lads laugh at you, call you feeble.”

“Well, now you know not to listen to everything you’re told.” Morse growled playfully, earning him a laugh as he rested his head on Lewis’ shoulders. “I’ve got to protect my pup. That vampire was about to jump you, make a meal of you. What was so interesting, anyway?”

Lewis huffed, shaking his head. “We smelt a rabbit, didn’t we?”

Morse smiled. “Touching. Now, come on.”

“Hold on, sir,” Lewis said, and Morse groaned.

“Lewis, I am wet and cold. I’m too old to be out in this weather, and you shouldn’t be! Come on, let’s find shelter until the rain lets up!”

“Sir, you’re bleeding!” Lewis barked shrilly.

Morse rolled his shoulder experimentally and felt the telltale twinge of a deep cut. “That would explain a lot.” He said absently. “Now, come on!” He bounded off in the opposite direction.

“But sir!”

“Don’t argue, Lewis. I know an old abandoned canine den not far from here, if I’ve got my bearings. And even in the storm, I think I do.”

Lewis sniffed. “I can barely smell you with all this rain, sir. It’s drowning out the scents.”

“I don’t need smell to find this den. Just a bit of luck.”

The two wolves trotted along for a while. Suddenly, lightning flashed and hit a tree, blinding Lewis. There was a crack, and a big branch fell down from above. 

“Duck!” Morse ordered, and Lewis lay down. There was a crash, and then Lewis felt Morse’s weight on top of him.

“Sir?” Lewis asked.

The old wolf coughed. “Heavier than I expected. You wriggle that way, I’ll wriggle this way.”

Lewis peddled forward, crawling on his belly out from under his mentor and the branch. A few stray sticks slashed his cheeks, but besides an aching back and shoulders from Morse’s weight, he was unharmed. Morse, however, was a much older wolf, and limped slightly as he trotted around to Lewis.

“Are you all right, sir?” Lewis asked.

“I’ll feel this tomorrow. I’m too old to be adventuring.” Morse complained good-naturedly. “If we don’t both catch cold, tell Strange I’m out with flu, or somesuch.” He butted against Lewis’ head affectionately. “Come on, pup. It’s not far.”

Lewis smiled and followed Morse. Soon, he could see the dark shape of a den in the mist. Morse trotted in first, and then Lewis followed. The stone walls blocked out the sound of the rain, but the open mouth let in the sounds of the storm, so that a sort of dizzying echo effect was produced. The ground was soft and dry to the touch, even after many unused moons still treaded by many footpads. Morse shook himself liberally, starting with his head and moving down to his tail. Lewis did the same, earning him a frustrated grunt from his mentor and another shake.

Morse collapsed on the den’s floor, laying his head on his paws, belly exposed. Lewis flopped down beside him and yawned. The rain drummed on.

“Sir?” Lewis said, picking his head up.

“Mmm?” Morse’s eyes were closed; dozing, then.

“I can’t hear the others.”

“We’re too far from the pack, Lewis. We won’t pick up their transitions.”

“Do you think they’re worried? Chief Superintendent Strange and the others?”

Morse blew out air through his nose. “They’ll be all right. Superintendent Strange knows that I know about this place. We can report once the storm clears.”

Lewis thought of the morning, of the transformation back to human, and blushed. 

“Oh, stop your nonsense.” Morse grumbled. “Lay your head down and rest a while. The storm will clear up soon.”

“How do you know that?” Lewis asked.

“Listen a minute.” Morse instructed.  
Lewis did listen. “I don’t hear anything. Just the rain.”

“It’s slowed down now, Lewis. The thunder is farther away as well.”

A big thunderclap sounded and Lewis instinctively hid his muzzle in his mentor’s white coat. Underneath the damp, Morse smelled like real ale and dust; comfort, home. Lewis relaxed, only to pick his head up to see Morse smiling at him.

“Silly pup,” Morse said affectionately, licking Lewis’ snout.

“Oh! Sir!” Lewis said suddenly. “Your wounds!”

“Mere scratches. Did I tell you I was shot once?”

“When you were young.” Lewis recites. “Only a constable.”

“Detective constable, thank you.” Still, the old wolf sighed all the same when Lewis began licking the tender wound on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s you that should be resting, sir. You were the one who took down the vampire and had a tree fall on you.”

“Nonsense.” Morse yawned. “Pups don’t know how to listen for the storm stopping.”

Lewis kept licking the wound until he was satisfied that it was clean. By then, his mentor had fallen asleep. The young wolf curled up beside Morse, resting his chin over Morse’s paw in case the old wolf was startled awake.

Moonlight streaming in through the cave was what woke Morse minutes later. The old wolf stretched his neck and haunches. His injuries stung, but felt much better thanks to Lewis’ care. He felt a weight on his paw and noticed Lewis lay asleep there. Morse smiled fondly and gently freed his foot before padding to the entrance of the cave. The daybreak birds were already chirping, the nocturnal animals scattered back to their dens. There was no time to catch a rabbit now; he’d have to settle for some real ale at the White Horse later. 

“Lewis!” He barked.

“Sir…?” Lewis said sleepily.

“Come on, pup. It’s time we found the pack.” Morse sat at the entrance and howled until he heard his old friend’s return call and then he and Lewis trotted off in that direction to report their findings.


End file.
